Sparring Partners
by Lifeweaver
Summary: (SS, SC, BN) One month to the WMAT. One month of quiet training before Videl shows Gohan who is the strongest fighter. Or at least thats how she thinks it will go.
1. Author notes

Author notes: These will be updated from time to time so check back.  
  
Dragonball Z and the characters of Dragonball Z are not mine. I'm too lazy to look up the exact names so if you want to know them, do it yourself. This writing is mine and any similarities to actual people, places, or events is accidental. That goes for other fics, I read a lot and I'm pretty sure this is unlike anyone else's. If you think otherwise, notice the disclaimer.  
  
Part 1: Hit me Baby, One More Time Pretty much pure sweetness, a lead in for the rest of the story.  
  
Part 2: It Starts With a Kick, er Kiss A bit of sexual innuendo. But I'm not letting them get together THAT easily.  
  
Part 3: The Mountain Strikes Back SEX, kinda. If it offends you read about halfway and go to the next part.  
  
Part 4: Ninja Hospital Action! Action! Videl kicks ASS.  
  
Part 5: In Sickness and in HFIL Mainly transition and foreshadowing. If you have suggestions to help this part send it please.  
  
Part 6: A Nude Hope (w/Cloths) A choice that is no choice.  
  
Part 7: When You Wish Upon a Ball. A gathering, and more hint of what is to come.  
  
Forthcoming chapters: .Your Wet Dreams Come True  
  
No New Tail to Tell  
  
Devil/Videl in a Blue Dress  
  
Don't Beer the Reaper  
  
Majin Mash  
  
Smells Like Teen 'Spirits'  
  
The RANT  
  
Miyah, I actually have you to thank for this story. I've had some of these scenes hanging around in my head for a month or two but never felt motivated to write it down. I don't try to be mean, I didn't consider my comments mean. You had a scenario I thought would be interesting and I wanted you to develop it into a good story. I almost never review something I don't think has potential, which means I rarely review things that are already good. As I told Cetra-chan (you don't mind if I call you that, do you?) 50 reviews saying just that it was great or terrible, is a waste of the every ones time (especially when they are misspelled). I WANT people to tell me if there are errors.  
  
A lot of what I had in mind when I started this is what I didn't see in fics. Dialog predominates, probably because we think and type as if we were speaking. Relatively few fics include body language, and I think writers are missing a vast area for there characters to live in the readers minds. This flaw reaches its peak in stories written in script format, Kami-sama people, we have over five senses to interact with the world, use them. I'll try to have as much dialog as there is speech and as much description as there are details. (Grin) and yes Cetra-chan, Gohan's fear of Videl is such an . . . INTRESTING aspect to explore and manipulate.  
  
People also seem to repeat the same details about Saiyans again and again. As a poor victim of Funimations dubs, I know I missed some parts that are cannon. But the idea is to create your own work. Some details of Saiyan biology are silly (not naming names, you can figure it out, I hope), some work fine. My Saiyans (and humans) will try to use as much biological logic and human instinct as possible. Cultural conditioning counter to biological instinct can have nasty effects, as Gohan shows.  
  
If you think I put too much on biology, you spend over five years immersed in it and try not to be the same way.  
  
FUN 'N FEEDBACK  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed but please, at least say what part you liked or what you think needs work.  
  
Me think fast. Me write slow. Review and check back, maybe motivation make write faster.  
  
Still open to suggestions for future scenes people want to see.  
  
Future works:  
  
Survey Mission 7467A: Planet Plant/Vegeta and primary inhabitants  
  
On the Mechano-physiology of the Borg  
  
Choices, the Paths That Almost Were (Daria)  
  
And now a teaser/spoiler.  
  
Pain. Pain and agony. Videl looked at the brutish face through the slit of one eye swollen almost shut. The other eye was covered by one of the immense hands holding her head. The bald head gleamed in the sunlight, highlighting the bulging veins and the curving lines reminiscent on an M. His leering face split, running tongue over lips slowly. He mocked her, mocked her pitiful attempts to harm him, but pleased with the appetizer of her suffering. His main course was next, but how to dine on her suffering? Her helpless body swung, bruises already darkening. Slowly, ever so slowly, her wrists came together, palms apart and fingers slightly curled.  
  
She smiled, hoarsely whispering "I've got something to tell you."  
  
Spopovich's leer didn't waver, if anything it grew wider. She'd thrown everything at him and failed, just as her father would fail soon enough.  
  
Videl closed her eyes, feeling the white hot pain, feeling it throb, pulsing like her heartbeat. She let loose the control, the mastery over the pain and felt the cool numbness spread at the speed of thought. Locking eye to eyes with her tormentor, Videl whispered "devil's . . ."  
  
"RAAAAAAAGE!" With her scream, green light burst down. It gushed between her fingers, racing with an electric crackle to touch the left knee of the brute holding her. For one moment green light illuminated both fighters before sputtering out. In its wake, the pain laced Ki left nothing. Between the burned hole in the ring and the cauterized end of the thigh, only the smell of burned flesh remained, spreading upward to a face. A face whose leer had been wiped off in a flash of green light, leaving only shock. 


	2. Hit me baby one more time

Sparring Partners  
  
Part one: Hit me baby one more time (Hey you, don't pretend you don't know where I got the quote)  
  
The primordial forest, a place of natural wonder. It is a place of peace and contentment, where only the songs of birds and the buzzing of insects interrupt the stillness.  
  
Mostly.  
  
THWAK! THUMP! "DAMN IT GOHAN, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?"  
  
One clearing had obviously felt the touch of human intervention, as attested to by the craters, toppled trees and split rocks. In fact, one chunk, err pile, of granite could honestly attest to an act of god in a court of law. Currently though, the landscape was not being assaulted, or even touched by human hand. This was because both figures were floating above treetop level. One, a young man with short spiky hair and obsidian eyes, scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. "Um, I thought we were sparring Videl, just like you wanted. I mean, with less than a month until the World Martial Arts Tournament, you want as much practice as you can, right?"  
  
The other glared, taking in his unruffled clothing and absence of sweat stains on either his green Saiyaman top or the dark bodysuit. 'He's not even breathing hard', she thought to herself. Her own condition was a far cry from Gohan's. Her dark blue FIGHT shirt was darkened further by her own sweat. Her recently shorn hair clung in messy tendrils across her face, one of which she absently moved away from her eye before returning her hands to her burning ribs.  
  
"Maybe you should rest Videl, you've only been flying for three days" suggested Gohan with a mix of nervousness and concern.  
  
Videl met his obsidian eyes with her blue ones, silently conveying her anger at this opponent she could not beat and puzzlement about how calmly he stood, well floated, after she had exhausted herself. "I am not going to rest until I beat you and how do we spar if you do nothing but BLOCK?" she spat before closing her eyes to concentrate on her labored breathing.  
  
Gohan had raised his hands defensively and drifted back. 'Why am I so afraid of her?' 'I could vaporize her easily'. 'Not even Freeza made me feel quite like this, and he was stronger than me then'. His mind ran, once again, over the puzzle before him.  
  
Before he could voice his puzzlement or try to placate the irate woman before him, the source of his inner conflict drew a deep breath and resumed a fighter's stance. Her Ki, he noted, was already recovering and had passed yesterdays maximum. He mirrored her stance, still not bothering to power up. 'Man, I need to get some real training if I want a chance against Vegeta'.  
  
As she had many times since the early morning, Videl charged uttering a loud kiai. High punches, low punches, front kicks, roundhouse kicks, two- handed blows, and more rained down on Gohan. Each impact echoed through the trees, driving any remaining creatures of the forest away. Each blow was delivered with deadly force. Each blow was delivered with masterful accuracy. Each blow was . . . blocked.  
  
Through the growing haze of her exhaustion and the endorphins made to counter that same exhaustion, Videl tenaciously clung to one thought. 'Daddy didn't give up against Cell, didn't give up, didn't . . .'  
  
Much to Gohan's relief, Videl broke off her attack and backed away. His relief was short lived as she charged back swinging wildly. Her brain barely noticed as he caught her right arm rather than blocking it. After briefly struggling to free her arm she repeated her attack using the left arm. Had she been thinking clearly she would have noticed the surprised look on Gohan's face as he caught that one too. 'She must be really out of it to try such amateur moves'. His surprise grew as she rocked back and slammed her head forward at his own skull.  
  
Such was his surprise that he didn't dodge, only jerking back slightly. It was enough. Instead of hurting her head against Gohan's skull, Videl struck his soft lips. With her own. Conscious thought had fled Videl with the last attack. In its place Videl's endorphin soaked brain allowed her only simple responses to stimuli. She felt someone's lips on her own and reacted.  
  
For his part, Gohan stood, well floated, frozen in shock. The normal confused mess of thoughts that filled his head was swept away by a single confused thought. 'I am being kissed by Videl'. Even that was swept away as he felt her tongue slide between his lips. Unconsciously he released her wrists, sliding his hands down her arms and under her shoulders to bring her closer. She responded by wrapping her arms over his shoulders as the kiss deepened to mutual.  
  
For a long moment they hung there, far above the ground. The sun blazed down illuminating the two brightly. Neither Gohan nor Videl cared. They weren't even aware of anything except each other. And the kiss they shared. 


	3. It starts with a Kick, err Kiss

Part 2: It starts with a Kick, err Kiss  
  
Something was nagging Videl. Something important. She tried to ignore it but like someone whispering in her ear the thought came. 'Air.' Jerking her head back, taking one long breath of sweet air, she stared dizzily at the three obsidian eyes inches from her face. The three eyes quickly resolved back to the normal two, but that was the only thing that resolved quickly.  
  
Memory trickled back slowly, as if reluctant to impinge on the blissful haze filling Videl's awareness. 'I'm happy' came first, almost tentatively, as if there was some reason for her not to be happy. The memory of her last flailing attacks came next. 'Who would be clumsy enough to do that?' she thought, before the next memory fell into place. 'Oh, me.'  
  
A faint blush spread on her cheeks at her clumsiness. The paired reflections of herself caught her eyes and her brain, more obedient now, provided the descriptions. 'Gohan' for the face around the dark eyes. 'Deer in the headlights' and 'cute' also went with the name.  
  
Behind those obsidian eyes, similar connections were being made. 'Wow.' Which led naturally to 'Wow'. Awareness rushed forward and right to his lips, bypassing rational thought. "Uh,geeVidelI'mrealyrealysorryaboutthisI'llneverdoitagain,pleasedon'tkillme. " Gohan started to move back but his words and the feel of his hands across her back literally sparked an explosion.  
  
"GOHAN YOU MORON, DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT SOMETHING I DID AND BESIDES I LIKED IT!" Two things prevented Gohan from finding a dark hole, preferably on the opposite side of the planet. One, the pain from his ears which was using his skull as a resonating chamber. Two, Videl had grabbed his hair, bringing them nose to nose and incidentally increasing the severity of reason one.  
  
"I liked it?" Videl mumbled in shock.  
  
'She liked it?' the thought managed to shove its way past the pain in Gohan's head.  
  
Any observer would have found Videl's face fascinating to watch. The pink blush that caressed her cheeks flashed to a bright red in her anger. Her blood could practically be seen draining from her face at her shocking discovery. Moments later the blood returned to her face, bringing reinforcements as the brilliant crimson blush surged from her cheeks, down her neck, before venturing to the secret territories beneath the sweat stained shirt. Of course any observer would have had to face Videl's wrath as well as defy gravity. At this point gravity realized that the pair had quit concentrating.  
  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" THUMPA-thumpa-thump! "Oouph"  
  
Even as short as the fall was, Videl could have been hurt if she hadn't landed on Gohan. Fortunately for both they landed on the relatively soft soil of a crater edge. Unfortunately their momentum kept them moving down, spinning and bouncing, until they plopped down in the middle of the crater.  
  
The bright sunlight shaded to a soft red as the dust from their impact scattered, tinting everything as if sunset had come early. Gohan sorted out his arms, and raised his face from a soft yet slightly sticky surface. He froze, staring, as he realized that he had landed face down on Videl's chest. He slowly raised his gaze, very conscious of the soft rises on either side of his face. The smell of her sweat slid into his nostrils, despite holding his breath. The memories it evoked, good and bad, assaulted him. Memories of time spent training, time with his dad and Piccolo. Memories of battles, battles where he failed and someone died. But there was something else, faint, unfamiliar, but good. Videl's soft groan sidetracked his slide into the past. Beneath him, Videl stirred. He saw how dirt and dust clung almost changing her face and hair to a solid reddish brown. Under the dirt, however, he saw normally tense muscles loosen, revealing a face of innocence. 'How could I be afraid of this?' His stare continued, captivated rather than fearful. Videl stirred again, and with a groan she stretched her arms to clutch her head. This motion emphasized her breasts, riveting Gohan's attention. Her new position also exposed fresh patches of her sweat to the air. This time that unfamiliar component was stronger, more vivid, more . . . desirable. Gohan desired her.  
  
Gohan leapt to his feet, dusting himself off, and stifling a nervous laugh. 'Why would I feel that about Videl, we're just friends, right?' Videl's face contorted, twisting between a scowl and a grimace. Gulping, Gohan reminded himself that her head probably hurt and she wasn't mad at him. 'But what if she IS?'  
  
With another groan, Videl flopped over, putting one hand and the opposite shoulder on the ground as she gathered her legs under her.  
  
Another gulp, this one felt like it took the long way down Gohan's spine to his tail stub, swinging past his crotch to tighten SOMETHING, before starting up a dance party in his stomach. Before him, Videl knelt with her legs slightly parted. The dirt had largely missed her white shorts despite being drenched with the same sweat that bound the dirt into clay elsewhere. She swayed, getting her hands under her and paused before twisting to hear better. 'Did I just hear something growl?' she wondered, not concerned as she could fly beyond the reach of any bear, lion, or even dinosaur.  
  
Videl stood slowly, taking in the mud caking her arms, legs, hair, and completely coloring her shirt everywhere except the front, where the now orange FIGHT was barely visible. 'Ugh, I need a bath!' A glance back showed that Gohan had escaped almost all the dirt. His expression, she noted, was his dear in the headlights imitation with something else. 'I must look horrible to him.' The something else she decided was hunger. 'It is about lunchtime.'  
  
Turning to face Gohan "Um, I was thinking maybe we should call it quits early for today and we could start this up again tomorrow". Her eyes widened briefly before she turned and ducked her head to hide the blush that would have been covered by the dirt anyway. "Uh, I, I mean the sparring, yah." Rallying her confidence she stomped forward to poke Gohan in the gut with a finger to accentuate her next words. "We ARE going to spar tomorrow, and you had BETTER do more than block next time!" she growled with what little anger she could muster.  
  
Gohan stood motionless, barely comprehending her words, let alone her intent. Only after he had watched her spin and march off, pull out a capsule only to shake her head and fly off on her own, then he blinked. He may have stood there forever, but his stomach, oblivious to the confusion above it, announced its emptiness. Numbly he turned and flew home to the meal his mother was hard at work on.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Warm mist wafted across white marble. The bath, though not quite up to Caligula's standards, would have been a good start. The glittering of gold fixtures pierced the haze only to be swallowed by fresh clouds of steam. Statues and portraits lined the walls, all depicting the afro-topped showman who managed to fool most of the people all the time. The tub, or perhaps the small swimming pool, had a single occupant. The occupant was currently contemplating the pros and cons of her position.  
  
'Daddy is so into himself' thought Videl wrinkling her nose at one portrait, larger than life and showing her father in his natural glory. 'I am so glad I moved the bust in front of THAT.' Raising her arms out of the water, she cushioned her head against one forearm while letting the other dangle to brush the cool marble floor. 'But this feels SO good.' Her motion sent ripples across the water, soon to rebound and return. Removing her hand from the cool marble, she reached for the silver plate with the remains of her late lunch. "Ah!", gritting her teeth against the pain in her shoulder and wrist, she ducked down to immerse everything below her nose on the hot water.  
  
Once more soothed, Videl glanced down through the rippling water at her right shoulder. 'Nasty bruise' she thought 'years of fighting crime then I get careless and stupid while training'. Raising the injured arm, she clutched the air, angrily thinking 'that dolt, saying he's sorry for one of the most wonderful things to happen to me'. Her shoulder and wrist throbbed coolly like her center did when she drew on her Ki. Jerking up, she stood and flung her right arm to the side, heedless of anything but her anger, "DAMN IT, HOW CAN SOMEONE BE SO SMART AND SO STUPID AT THE SAME TIME?"  
  
An odd sizzling sound distracted Videl from her anger, drawing her attention to her still clutched right hand. As she turned her head, she barely saw the green beam flowing from her right hand before it winked out. Amazed, she stared at her numbed arm, before raising her gaze to where the other end of the beam had been. She smiled, put her left hand to her mouth and giggled.  
  
The larger than life picture of Hercule Satan, in his natural glory and nothing else, had had a horizontal swath burned across it. The bust she had moved in front of it to cover a certain area was no longer needed as that area was now a smudge of soot on the wall. Which was just as well, considering that the bust itself was missing most of it's afro, leaving the marble hair patches on either side of the champions face.  
  
'A Ki blast' she thought in wonder, 'let's do it again'. Smirking, she pointed her right hand at the defaced face of the statue. Nothing happened. A long moment passes before started angrily pounding her hand on the edge of the tub. That hurt. A moment later the pain vanished as a small green spark leapt from her hand and faded away.  
  
Content in her success but not inclined to experiment further, Videl sighed happily. No longer distracted by her newfound power, she shivered. The water warming her lower legs was not enough to stop the evaporation on the rest of her body. Shivering she crossed her arms, rubbing her goosebumps. The motion also tweaked her chill-hardened nipples. Reflexively gasping, she clasped her hands tighter and slid back down into the water. 'Gohan' she thought with a sad sigh 'how can you be so smart an still be so stupid?'. Warm again to the top of her breasts, she grabbed her plate to finish her lunch.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Gohan enjoyed his lunch. He also enjoyed a light spar with Goten. Not that he could tell anyone anything else about lunch, the spar or anything else during the day. He knew his mother fussed over him, concerned that her future scholar champion was coming down with something. He was sent to bed early, though not without dinner because he has to keep up his strength. Once in bed, his mechanical movements turned restless, entwining the sheets. Between one toss and the next, sleep came.  
  
Dusk, hunting time. A handwidth above the horizon, the small white sun cast stark shadows across the rocky landscape. Making up in power what nature redesigned to serve other purposes, his roar echoed across the landscape. His eyes closed, nose in the air, tail twitching just above the ground, he partakes of the news the wind brings him.  
  
'Female, in heat' says the wind. Tail lashes, nose checks again. 'Yes.' Bounding over rocks, seeking. The smell grows. 'There!' Two blue eyes in the shadow. Turns, her tail beckons and vanishes. 'Chase, prove your worth' the message is clear. The chase is long. Glimpses are fleeting, short black hair, blue eyes, slightly short but lithely muscled. Desired more as the chase grows long. There, her smooth back, muscled yet soft, above her curved rear, its softness to hold invited by the motions of her brown furred tail. 'Desire' her scent says. 'Worthy' her eyes say, blue eyes gazing over her shoulder above a smile to match his own. In darkness, desire, mutual desire, to be peaked and fulfilled. By her leave, he takes her hips. By her leave, bends down to take her lips.  
  
Starlight and forest sounds surround Gohan. Closer, sweat covers his panting body but nothing else. He is confused and exhausted. Locating a mossy patch, he falls into dreamless slumber, leaving his problems to wait for the dawn. 


	4. The Mountain Strikes Back

Part 3: The Mountain Strikes Back  
  
Pink. Pink with red lines. 'Mattress has gotten thin' he thought. Next, 'smells pretty musty too.' And with a realization that was not thunderous at all 'my eyes are closed'. He opened them. Unfortunate that a half- Saiyan, Ki master, savior of Earth, and generally confused teenager, STILL could not stare into the sun. "OW!" Raising one hand to rub his eyes while moving the blanket aside with the other, more facts clicked. 'I'm in the forest, on a mossy rock, with a blanket.' Wondering why something seemed wrong, his pained eyes started working again. A green blur. Not surprising, considering that he is in the middle of a forest, but still . . .  
  
"Rough night kid?"  
  
"PICOLLO!" Everything leapt into focus except literally. His eyes still hurt. Even with blurry vision, he could make out his old mentor floating in a full lotus with his arms crossed. Even as infrequently as Gohan saw the Namak these days, nothing in his appearance had changed. Ignoring that the former Demon and Guardian of Earth's cape was the only thing that had been covering Gohan, of course.  
  
Snatching up the cape as he started to stand, he stuttered "um, I bettergohome, mom'll . . ."  
  
Panic flashed briefly over Piccolo's normally stern features at the mention of Gohan's mother. Raising a hand to forestall Gohan's embarrassment and any chance of meeting Chichi, he stated "don't worry kid, I'll take care of it".  
  
Shifting his raised hand to point at the effectively naked teen, a soft orange glow streaked from his fingers and spread, surrounding Gohan like a second skin. As the energy faded, it left matter, a familiar blue undersuit and orange gi with Piccolo's symbol adorning front and back.  
  
Relief replaced embarrassment on Gohan's face, changing his posture from a twitching hunch to straight and calm. He opened his mouth to speak and a loud growl emerged. No, that was his stomach. Looking down at the complaining organ, he glanced back at his mentor and gave a small shrug.  
  
Piccolo, smirking, said nothing. Instead he reached into his lap and started casually tossing the concealed fruits at the hungry half-saiyan.  
  
Plopping back onto his moss bed, Gohan happily munched one fruit while catching the rest with his other hand and putting them in his own lap. Engrossed as only an eating Saiyan can be, he almost missed Piccolo's rumbled comment.  
  
"Dende mentioned that you were having problems, kid."  
  
Gohan froze, eyes wide, thumb in his mouth from sucking the last of the juice off his fingers. A long moment passed. At last Gohan bent his head down, half closing his eyes. He spoke tentatively, picking at the cloth on his leg nervously. "It was a dream." Piccolo responded with silence. "I, I was chasing someone, a woman."  
  
"Did she do something wrong?" Piccolo asked quietly in a tone that almost said that he knew the answer already.  
  
Hunching over more, Gohan shook his head violently. "No, no, no, nothing like that!" He leaned back on his elbows, staring at the high clouds edged with the colors of sunrise. A faint breeze ruffled his hair, adding clarity to his memories.  
  
When he spoke again, the rapt expression and tone of wonder in his voice were such that even Kami's memories could offer Piccolo few instances to compare. "Nothing was wrong, she was just right." His eyes continued to stare upward even though something else filled his vision. "She was beautiful, strong, fast and, and she wanted me." His voice softened a notch. "She wanted me, just like I wanted her, to hold her, to do things to each others' bodies, to give her children."  
  
In another medium other than his face, the blush could have caused a sonic boom. As it was, he was saved from having his face explode in a shower of blood by the pain of falling on a rock. The pain in his head was brief and faded quickly. The rock was less fortunate, passing on to its next incarnation as sand.  
  
In the moment between the fading pain and remembered embarrassment came a rough voice. "Who is she?"  
  
Propping himself back up on one elbow and rubbing his head with the other hand, Gohan replied automatically. "Videl."  
  
Noticing just what he said, Gohan jerked up, babbling franticly. "But its not like anything could happen between us, we're just friends, in fact she may even hate me for yesterday, she yelled at me, like she yells at mom whenever she starts mentioning marriage or grandchildren, which I'm nowhere near ready for, after all I only met her a little while ago and even if I do like her, I would have to tell her about the Saiyans and being half- alien and she'll freak or think I'm a freak, so that will make her hate me more than she already does." Finally sucking back in a breath, the look of panic remained on his face.  
  
"Calm down kid, I won't tell anyone." A small smile and a nasty laugh followed his proclamation. His expression shifted, more a thoughtful frown, unnoticeable from his normal stern expression except to those few he called friend. "But maybe you should." "After all" he continued, forestalling Gohan's words to the contrary "you never know just what will happen, just like I didn't know what would happen when I started to train a small boy after his father died."  
  
Gohan sighed, resting his cheek against hand, elbow on knee. His posture marked him as a tired and confused teen, one of Earth's mightiest worriers more than one of its mightiest warriors. "Well, I still don't know what to do but thanks." A tired smile slid onto his face as he spoke with genuine warmth. "It's good to see you again Piccolo, it's been too long."  
  
"Yah, kid" the Namak said, unfolding his legs to stand on the ground and step toward Gohan. He knelt, taking his cape and refastening it in place. Standing, he ruffled Gohan's hair, the first touch the two had shared in a long time. When he spoke again, there was honest affection amid his gravelly tones "it's good to see you to but you should thank Dende." The small nasty smile returned, showing his sharp teeth to their best advantage, "I" he emphasized "wanted to keep throwing you at mountains until you came to your senses."  
  
The two shared a smile at the reference as Piccolo continued "but in a way, I did throw you at a mountain." If anything, his grin showed more of his teeth. "And we're going to see if she strikes back."  
  
The slow sinking feeling in Gohan's stomach turned into a desperate free fall at terminal velocity. Slowly, feeling more like a glacier, cold and numb, than a living man, he stood and turned. From the shadow of a large tree, blue eyes gleamed. Blue eyes that drove out the hope that he had misunderstood Piccolo's comment. Blue eyes, two spots that held him insensate to the springy moss, the forest smells, or the flapping of Piccolo's cape retreating in the distance. Blue eyes, framed by a feminine face. Videl.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Videl had woken early. As in the time people refer to as ungodly, however much theologians attest otherwise. The fragments of whatever dream so disturbing her slumber left a residue of euphoria, the desire to blush, and an unaccustomed slickness between her legs. Dressing in her usual pink shirt and white tank top, she grabbed some food, and departed in her jetcopter.  
  
She landed in the practice torn clearing as the eastern sky purpled, sucking what little color remained in the trees' silhouettes. And then her nice simple plans were so rudely sidetracked. Instead of simple practice before Gohan arrived, a green man wearing a turban and massive shoulder pads grabbed her and before she could do anything, dropped her a short distance away. His instructions for silence naturally prompted her to demand answers as loudly as possible, almost. The almost being a shivering figure a short ways away. Make that a naked shivering GOHAN a short ways away. She watched as the green guy covered him with his cape and settled down in midair. 'How many people can fly on this planet anyway and how many of them know Gohan?' The questions that started with a new kid in her school and a masked crime-fighter were joined by others.  
  
As time passed, she found the experience educational. As in, learning just how little you know. She did get to see Gohan naked, that was a plus even though it brought more questions. She felt like she was going to burst from all the questions. Her greatest desire at that moment was to grab Gohan by the neck and start shaking until she got all the answers. Then shake him some more for the aggravation he caused her. But she didn't.  
  
She reflected on how her years fighting petty crooks and terrorists had changed her. Patience was not a virtue when dealing with those kinds of people. Patience usually meant wasted time and effort. And that meant people got hurt. Instead she had learned to let her temper out, using the raw unpredictable violence to intimidate weaker criminals and catch the stronger ones off guard. She had learned well. Too well.  
  
When she met Gohan, then Saiyaman, she knew they had secrets. Unfortunately she was used to people with secrets that led to other people getting hurt, even killed. And she did what had worked so often. And it worked again, almost to a tragedy. Unlike her father, she could admit her mistakes, even if it was only to herself.  
  
Looking back at Gohan, she saw him stand. She saw him lock his eyes onto her own. His expression, more like a man facing unjust death and powerless to stop it, twisted her stomach in unfamiliar emotions.  
  
She stepped forward. Slowly, as if fearing he would bolt. Keeping her eyes on his, she saw an emptiness. 'Guilt' she realized was what she felt for taking the sparkle from those obsidian eyes. As she grew near, she had to tilt her head up to keep the gaze. Finally, she could reach up to his cheek, resting her hand softly for a moment before sliding down the sinewy muscles of the back of his neck. The barest of force and he responded, bringing them cheek to cheek, her lips almost brushing his ear. "It's alright" she whispered "I still want you to tell me, but when you're ready."  
  
Pulling back slightly, he saw her face. Not quite the innocence he saw so briefly yesterday, but close. Her eyes, the inner storm always ready to strike any who ventured too close, was stilled like the eye of a hurricane. 'You never know just what will happen' Piccolo's voice echoed in his mind. Hope sparked, 'time to face things, HER, head on'.  
  
He kissed her. He bent down and kissed her. Just on the lips and only holding it a moment. As he pulled back, he saw her smile. The spark of hope grew, thawing his blood and quickening his heart. A deep throb began in his head, echoing throughout his body.  
  
Videl felt dizzy, the heady rush of success itself almost as good as the feeling of Gohan's kiss. 'More.' Sliding her other hand over the taunt cords joining shoulder and neck, she pulled. This time she started and he responded, tilting their heads apart for better access. The tip of her tongue met his, tasting, caressing, exploring. The air flowing in and out of her lungs became choppy, ragged. Videl was barely aware that Gohan's breathing matched her own. The coy touching of tongue on tongue ended as one thrust, exploring, trying to touch everything. Then retreating, allowing the other to touch as it had. Videl wasn't sure who started but the back and forth dance within their mouths continued for a long time.  
  
At some point in their kiss Videl had called on her Ki, an amazingly small amount she dimly realized, lifting herself just enough that Gohan had to tilt his head up to maintain their liplock. As she wrapped her legs around his hips, he responded to the unspoken suggestion, sliding his hands along the undersides of her thighs to cup and squeeze her ass. The heightened rate of her breathing told him to continue and he did, squeezing and caressing, occasional venturing around the edges of her inner thighs.  
  
As with the first kiss, she jerked her head back. Saying nothing, she felt the flush of blood warming her skin, giving her a blush as warm as her smile. And smile she did, bending back down to Gohan's ear to whisper "I want more". She leaned back, locking her legs around his waist and rocking her ass on his hands to pull off her tanktop and shirt.  
  
Maybe if Gohan hadn't squeezed at that time her clothing would have survived. Probably not, but it didn't matter as scraps of pink and white cloth fluttered from her clenched fingers. Almost desperately, she reached behind her back, fumbling with the black sports bra's fastener. As she managed to peel it off and fling it aside, Videl returned her attention to Gohan. In the momentary pause to disrobe her desire had grown and as she looked down at Gohan's rapt face, she realized something.  
  
He had frozen up. He knew Videl wanted this. He knew he should continue touching her, sharing the desire naked on her face. Naked, not quite, she still had on the black shorts. 'And whatever is under them, like nothing' some part of his mind speculated. But he didn't move, only gazing at the slender body before him. Her arms and legs were dense with heavy muscle, not bulging, but tight under her soft skin, enough edge to show her strength but no so much to blur her femininity. Not even the bruised right arm, splotched purple, detracted from either her strength or femininity. Her rear, he could feel through the fabric, had thick muscles beneath the soft roundness. Sloping inward from her hips, her waist and flat abdomen had dense cords softened to the touch by her skin, skin a shade paler from its lack of sun. And there was more.  
  
Her breasts. The twin globes had to have been confined tightly in the bra considering how large they looked. Far larger then they seemed under the layers of loose clothing, they were not so large as some girls' at school were, particularly those that flaunted their charms. They barely sagged, accentuating the roundness and as Videl was, with her back arched, they were high and proud. Her nipples, an amazingly feminine pink, barely protruded from the pigmented circles just over an inch across.  
  
The sun, still low in the sky, threw her body into a mass of light and shadow. The golden light and curving dark, particularly considering the curved raven locks crowning her head, made her seem almost unreal. And then, growling impatiently, she grabbed the back of his head and brought his lips to one of her pink nipples.  
  
Trance broken, he inhaled, taking in her scent. Only a trace of the sweat remained but the part that he couldn't identify yesterday was there in full measure. And it was good. Breathing deeply, filling his lings with the scent of Videl, he puckered his lips around the small nub Videl had presented him. He was surprised by her reaction, but after a moment resumed suckling vigorously. She had gasped, throwing her head back as small quivers shook her entire body, and mashed his face further into her breast while spasmodically gripping and releasing the hair spikes on the back of his head. As Videl's almost naked body shook against his he realized something.  
  
Piccolo hadn't materialized underwear. Thus the erection had tented the loose material of his new gi and brought it into contact with Videl's crotch. Only a few thin layers of cloth separated the two. It wasn't going to be enough.  
  
"Vdl, Im feewing, uh, feewing, uh." 'Videl, I'm feeling, uh, feeling, uh' her mind translated from the muffled voice at her breast. 'Oh, so am I Gohan.' The feeling of Gohan suckling her nipple alone was enough to make her quiver. Which she was. But rubbing against his penis, even through the cloth, was beyond description. 'Better than chocolate.' 'Better than fighting.'  
  
Benevolent gods smiled at Gohan. Well maybe they weren't so benevolent and those weren't smiles, but Gohan was rescued from his predicament. To his regret.  
  
Bzzz. Bzzz.  
  
Ingrained habits snapped Videl from her euphoria. She raised her wrist communicator. "WHAT, this had better be important, or I'm going to hurt someone!"  
  
"Videl, ninjas have taken over the research wing of Satan City Hospital and are threatening to release a virus in less than an hour!"  
  
"On my way, chief." She turned off the communicator, took in her lack of clothing, Gohan's erection and red strained face, and the situation as a whole.  
  
"AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"  
  
A distant herd of triceratops looked up, panicking, as their instinct told them some fearsome predator was about to eat them. 


	5. Ninja Hospital

Part 3: Ninja Hospital  
  
As they flew, well Gohan flew and Videl hung on to his chest, Videl struggled internally. On one hand people depended on her. Helping the police stop criminals had been the only thing keeping her together after her mother's death. Moisture streaked from her eye down her cheek to be lost in the wind. 'Not used to the wind' she thought franticly, burying her face in the green folds of Gohan's Saiyaman top. The path the tear took across her cheek burned cold. 'It's got to be important, they need me, I'm the only one.' Years ago her father hadn't understood her need, 'Why would you want to do that? A big strong daddy is supposed to protect his little girl, and I'm certainly a big strong daddy' were his exact words. Oh, he cared, she knew he cared, but he didn't change. She had. Fighting crime gave her a purpose, made her feel strong. Strong like Gohan.  
  
Her train of thought had circled around, back to something so close at had. So engrossed in her internal monologue, she had failed to notice how she had shifted closer. One hand sliding up Gohan's back, past his cape, touching his hard helmet. Not his soft hair. That was when she realized two things. One was just where her other hand was. The other was just how that location was affecting Gohan's flying ability.  
  
"Um, Videl would you, ah, move your, ungh, hand somewhere OOOH!" The slight jitters in his flying, Videl realized, had matched the movement of her thumb against the soft hairs of that nub at the base of his spine. 'His tail spot, he called it.'  
  
She had managed to get a few, very few, answers after the chief called. The mix of anger, frustration, arousal, and shock took longer to control than it took Gohan to retrieve his Saiyaman costume and for her to retrieve the change of clothing, identical to the pieces destroyed, from her jetcopter. 'He must have been able to avoid his mom, as red as he was and at bad at lying, she would have kept him for hours.' Another idea occurred to her, 'He could have told Chichi EXACTLY what happened and she would have crowed, cried, and sent him back to protect her future daughter-in-law and future grandchildren.'  
  
In Gohan's arms, Videl shuddered. 'No no NO, just like Gohan said, were too young for marriage.' The train of thought continued, bringing a smile and a blush to the young woman's face 'although I did enjoy being with him, I mean like that, and other times when he isn't hiding something or annoying me, but earlier was just wonderful and I am going to HURT someone!'  
  
Gohan couldn't see his would be lover's face. He couldn't see the delicate pink flush of a young woman who had just discovered the feelings of the heart, AND body, for the first time. He couldn't see the aspect of the delicate maid turn into a vengeful Valkyrie, red faced and scowling, seeking but one thing more than to crush her enemies, see them driven before he, and hear their lamentations. That one desire was to do it FAST.  
  
He couldn't see any of that, but he could feel the shooting pain and weakness, similar but weaker to something from a long, long time ago.  
  
"Videl, could you please move your hand?" His voice, pain and weariness unlike she had heard from him before, brought Videl back to awareness. Awareness that the small nub of his tail spot was being squeezed between her fingers. Awareness that they were no longer flying. Instead they were tumbling, red cape snapping around like a whip in the erratic gusts as Gohan attempted to focus. In the chaotic tumbling, Videl was torn from Gohan's slack arms. Her eyes wide with panic, Videl inhaled to scream. 'Focus.' Reflexes kicked in, attempting then discarding an acrobatic tumble before focusing Ki downward. Slowing, then stopping, Videl looked around.  
  
"GOHAN, WHAT HAPPENED?" Yelling partially because of the fall and because she saw him some distance away, hunched over and rubbing his tailbone. 'Tail spot', she corrected herself.  
  
"Um, I told you about my tail." At her silent nod he continued, slightly embarrassed, "well, that's what happens when you grab a Saiyan's tail, I thought it didn't happen anymore but I guess loosing my tail just made it harder to get to."  
  
She opened her mouth to say something but shut it instead, shaking her head. "Come on, we're almost there." Turning words to action, she sped off toward the city. 'If this keeps up, I'll have to go steady with him to get enough answers.' 'Not that there aren't other reasons to . . . no Videl, think about kicking ninja butt, not Gohan butt, that's for later.'  
  
Buildings, streets, cars all blurred together far below as Videl sped to the hospital. Over her shoulder, Gohan's voice asked nervously "um, are you sure you want people to know you can fly?"  
  
"Damn it!" Stopping so fast, her backwake ruffled her shirt and hair, she floated. Scowling down at the city, she put her hands on her hips, and twitched one leg oddly, as if tapping one foot in midair. Glancing irritably at her twitching foot, she sighed and faced Gohan, who floated facing her from a few feet away. In a matter of fact tone, "you'll just have to carry me, and try not to drop me this time."  
  
"But, that was because, you, the tail!" His helmet hid most of his face but left his mouth free to stutter. And stutter he did, right up until Videl dropped herself into his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek.  
  
"I know, now lets get to the hospital, I have ninja butt to kick." Her smile, a small happy yet predatory smile, disturbed and confused him as much as anything else she did. So, red in the face for the umpteenth time, arms full of Videl, he continued on as his thoughts turned to the question that marks entry to manhood 'am I EVER going to understand women?'  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
THUD! THUD! "Ten, eleven." Black hooded heads struck walls on the opposite sides of the hall. Fluorescent lights shone down on beige carpeting. Off white walls, starkly functional now had an oriental décor. Wall decorations were normally placed higher but after shoving the third ninja through a wall, Gohan reminded her that it probably would be best not to damage the hospital. So she restrained herself a little, knocking her opponents into walls rather than through them. Still, she seemed to be having a good time. And Gohan wasn't complaining about being away from the focus of Videl's aggressions. The ninjas may have had complaints but, as yet, none had voiced anything more articulate than a yell or groan. That included before they attempted to attack. Attempted, being the operative word, as each had tried almost the same tactics. Ambush may be an effective tactic, but it looses some effectiveness when the ambusher is covered from head to toe in black amid the walls that were, oh yes, off white.  
  
And when one of the ambushed could sense Ki, there was the advantage of surprise, just not for the unfortunate ninjas who had managed to disturb Videl when she was, ahem, busy.  
  
As she drew back her foot from the roundhouse kick that had sent the last ninja into the arms, or maybe the bony knees, of Morphious, Videl remained tense and alert. With eyes that had seen many men rendered senseless, usually by her actions, she judged the uncomfortable positions her latest two victims had crumbled into. Finally deciding that her victims were no more aware than the previous nine, she relaxed her combat ready body and turned her gaze back. "The last one was over this way, you said?" At his nod, she turned with something between a smile and a scowl covering her face and seeping into her every movement as she continued down the hall to an open doorway. 'Useful trick, sensing Ki, I'll have to get him to show me how.'  
  
Closer, the door was not merely open, but shattered. The twisted deadbolt hung, linking wooden fragments to a spreading spiderweb of cracks in the wall. Just inside, wooden fragments lay, a jigsaw puzzle with one clue, the distinct yellow and black curves of a biohazard symbol. Further in, a hunched figure stood, clad in black like the others. The metal desk was covered in papers haphazardly strewn across it and spilling to the floor. The ruffling of paper was soon joined by the rhythmic thump of fist on palm.  
  
"You're in a lot of trouble mister." Videl's voice carried undertones promising that the trouble would be painful, and that she would enjoy carrying out said trouble. Gohan, familiar with being the target of that promise, surpressed a small shiver as he leaned against the inside doorframe.  
  
The hunched figure spun, revealing black hair bound in a short topknot capping a long angular face and sharp nose. "Little girl, you know NOTHING of trouble." His clipped, short, and harsh phrasing spoke his anger and arrogance as surely as the fist he shook at Videl. A fist clenching a stoppered flask. "I, Murasaki Junior, shall use this virus to force Goku to face me and then I shall avenge the humiliating defeat of my father and uncles!" He paused to sniff away a tear, 'papa', before shaking the forefinger oh his free hand at the two crimefighters who just stood there with blank looks. "I don't know how you managed to sneak past my Thirteen Ninjas of DOOM, but I am their master and was taught by the legendary Five Murasaki Brothers! HAHAHAH!"  
  
His boast was met by blank looks of puzzlement. "The Five Murasaki Brothers, who were part of the RED Ribbon ARMY!"  
  
'Sheesh, someone else from the Red Ribbon army wanting to defeat dad, what's next, Pilaf wishing dad back just to kick his butt?' "Give up evildoer, for you face the defenders of . . ."  
  
"Saiyaman!" Videl spoke sharply over her shoulder, keeping Murasaki Jr. in view.  
  
Still using his heroic voice. "Uh, yes Miss Videl?"  
  
"Just let me beat him up and we can get back to what we were doing." As she spoke she returned her gaze, blue eyes holding back a fierce burn. 'THIS is the guy responsible for interrupting us for some stupid revenge plan against Gohan's father who's been dead for years.' Her lean muscles tensed, pulling her body into a combat stance as she focused on her opponent, almost missing Gohan's mumbled "sure Videl."  
  
"SO, you would have a girl fight your battles for you, then I shall defeat her first!" With that proclamation, he twisted to the right, dodging Videl's punch. With an arrogant smile, he easily twisted and ducked to dodge the flurry of punches that followed. "So, little girl, you think to challenge a ninja master, versed in the secret ways of YOUCH!"  
  
Having had little success hitting his torso, Videl had struck lower, stomping toes. Gasping in pain, he flung the vial up to clasp his wounded foot in both hands. Videl calmly snatched the tumbling vial from the air, before watching the hopping ninja slowly spin in an erratic circle.  
  
His spin winding down, Murasaki Jr. crouched down before springing to the side, landing in a handstand before spinning around to face Videl with a shuriken in hand. She was moving even as he readied his throw. With only a trace of Ki, she leapt over the spinning star to land a flying side-kick on his shoulder as he ducked away. The momentum of the impact spun them both, leaving Videl in the corner by a large white freezer and Murasaki between her and Gohan. Once more they engaged, exchanging blows fast enough to blur each attack into the next. A white and pink blur lashed flesh toned tendrils against an all black counterpart. The movements wove together, balanced for a moment before the black advanced, pushing forward. The other shrank as it was pushed back, and shrank again on its own before exploding outward leaving Videl slightly panting against the wall and Murasaki Jr. tumbling back to land on his knees and holding his ribs with an expression of pain on his face.  
  
"GASP, you are, gasp, better than I, gasp, expected but a ninja, gasp, is master of, gasp, SURPRISE!" As Videl moved to block the silver streak, she realized her mistake. The point slid through the flesh of her fingers, brushing the bones before touching glass. The ridiculously quiet chiming of broken glass echoed in her ears, driving out even the feeling of the star piercing her palm clean through to emerge on the other side.  
  
"VIDEL!" Dashing from the door where he had watched the fight, Gohan's cape left a red blur across the room. Absently brushing aside Murasaki Jr. as he struggled to stand, he put a Murasaki shaped window in the wall, through which could be seen a rapidly shrinking black speck. He managed stop as she held up her uninjured left hand before she leaned back. Pale and shaking, she slid down the wall to land with her knees even with her chin as she was hunched over staring at the small trickle of blood slide down her forearm. She looked up, seeming smaller and younger than ever. Blue eyes shimmered with tears. The tears seeped from her eyes, leaving something else, something Gohan had never seen in those eyes, something he could only rage impotently against. Fear. 


	6. In Sickness and in HFIL

Part 5: In Sickness and in HFIL  
  
The small ornate table held an equally ornate phone. Or, more precisely, part of a phone. The other part was being held by a large man in a maroon robe. In his other hand he held a marble bust, which would have been a good likeness except the bust had less hair and held the champ as he appeared after one of his many victories. Nose to nose, it hid the frown as the flesh and bone version spoke. "Yeh, that's right, a statue and a painting, looks like some hooligan came in here with a blowtorch to vandalize . . . no, no alarms went off . . . what?, is the Champion of the World supposed to just, um wait there's another call, hello Hercule Satan savior of the Earth here . . . Videl at the hospital, she didn't get in trouble with some boy, did she . . . oh, just a virus without a cure, is that all, VIDEL HAS AN INCURABLE VIRUS?"  
  
Dropping both bust and phone, one to plop onto the thick carpet and the other to swing freely, the man who defeated Cell, would he lie to his fans I think not, cried out "VIDEL BABY DON'T BE SCARED, DADDY'S COMING FOR YOU!" and dashed out the door.  
  
Or he would have if the doorway had been three feet to the left. Hercule Satan always left a good impression on the fans; he was just broadening his horizon, really.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Videl glared. Each pair of eyes she met returned her gaze without flinching. She hardened her gaze, forcing her will upon them and still they would not budge. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the inevitable. The yellow curtains with the teddy bears were there to stay.  
  
She reached behind her, grabbing the metal frame of the chair and spun it in front of her so its back was to the window. Straddling it, she plopped down on the thin padding and cushioned her head on arms supported by the chair back. Impatiently she looked over the room she occupied, this time in the dim reflection in front of her. A table with TV, VCR, and magazines. One bed with thin foam mattress. Three off white walls with a locked door. One large window with, ugh, curtains. Herself, with bandaged hand and an incurable virus. Neat and carefully contained. Not to mention the overly clean scent hiding the ghosts of who knows what. UGH! 'The least they could have done was let me keep my clothes, its not like I could get anymore infected from them' she thought while adjusting the hospital gown she now wore being careful in flexing her much abused right hand.  
  
The other side of the window, however, was far more interesting. The walls were the same and there were three chairs instead of one but the interesting part was who occupied the wall and chairs. To her left Gohan sat, back in his orange gi, wringing his hands and glancing between herself and the woman seated to his left. Videl may never have met the woman but she could not mistake THE Bulma Briefs for anyone else. Currently the blue haired genius was face down in a manila folder, emitting small noises as she examined the contents. The other three were so alike in some ways it made the differences so much more amazing. Each had claimed the middle of a wall to lean against with their heads down and arms crossed almost identically. The short man with hair more spiky than either Gohan or Goten leaning behind Bulma was obviously a fighter. She had seen his movements as he entered with Bulma even without the muscles showing in his sweat stained blue bodysuit. Opposite him, the green man she had seen earlier, wearing the same clothes, cape and all. Opposite Videl herself, the blond was even less readable, her blue denim vest and jeans over a long sleeved shirt was no fighting outfit but not difficult to move in. Bulma Briefs, Vegeta, Eighteen, and Piccolo. Gohan's friends and she supposed now hers.  
  
Vegeta stirred, growling "woman, are you done reading that stupid file yet?" 'Maybe not', Videl thought.  
  
Moments later, Bulma closed the folder and stretched back, her spine popping audibly. Exchanging a brief upside down glare with her partner for verbal sparring and bedroom activities, she looked at Videl. Apologeticly she stated "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." She sighed and opened the folder again before continuing "this virus has incredible affinity for the glucose receptors and cadherins in the blood vessels, so there is almost no trace of the virus an hour after infection until the infected cells burst and the next generation of viruses are released."  
  
At Videl's confused stare she explained "it doesn't stay in the blood long enough to be affected by the few anti-viral drugs or most of the bodies own defenses and it will cause progressively worse damage to your blood vessels as it infects new cells."  
  
With obviously forced cheerfulness she pointed out "it can only be spread by blood so the doctors should let you out soon."  
  
Silence filled the room as some sought alternative to the grim news, some were silent out of respect, and one considered her own mortality.  
  
Gohan's hands stilled as a faint flicker of hope appeared. As he opened his mouth Vegeta, Eighteen, and Piccolo jerked up, looking at he door.  
  
"VIDEL!" Hercule's voice was loud enough to silence the slamming of the door and the crowd behind him. True silence followed as blue eyes met obsidian, this time between Hercule and Vegeta. Blue eyes told the brain to run away, but as usual the ego shouted louder. "I don't know how you got the doctors to let you in but I'm not signing autographs now." Oblivious to the silent groans from everyone in the room, he strode proudly into the room "Videl honey, just sit tight and daddy'll get the finest mind to find a cure for this little bug!" A slam behind him allowed him to see Eighteen now leaning against the door. Faint groans could be heard through the door. He looked back as his daughter spoke.  
  
"Already done daddy" resignation filled Videl's voice, possibly from her condition or maybe just because of how her father acted "in case you didn't notice, Bulma Briefs is here and has already looked at all the information on the virus."  
  
"Speaking of annoying relatives, where is Kakarrot's harpy mate, I would have expected her to be here, unlike me" the Saiyan prince questioned.  
  
Blandly, as always, the cyborg stated "I sent Krillan to get Chichi." Her statement provoked a shudder in everyone at the sadism of Eighteen. Everyone, that is, except Hercule who stood confused at the conversation of these strange people.  
  
Returning to the idea that had been interrupted by Hercule's arrival, Gohan asked hopefully "if we know what the virus binds to, couldn't we block it?"  
  
"Anything that blocks glucose receptors is toxic" flatly stated eighteen.  
  
"And blocking the cadherins could turn her body to mush faster than the virus" finished Bulma, ending that line of inquiry.  
  
Silence.  
  
More silence.  
  
Being without training, food, or sex, Vegeta finally broke the silence. "Woman, unless you give me one good reason why I should stand here watching some weak human girl die of some weak human disease . . ."  
  
"Human?" Surprise was written across Bulma's face, distracting the many glares at Vegeta and stopping Videl's "Weak!"  
  
"Human, human, human." Smiling insanely, Bulma leapt up, grabbed the Saiyan behind her, and shoved him toward the door.  
  
Eighteen stepped aside, allowing the Prince to open the door, muttering to himself "idiot woman finally snapped." Although those inside could only see the swept up points of black hair, the crowd outside obviously saw something different. Reacting to some ancient and fundamental instinct of self-preservation, the hall emptied in moments.  
  
As Vegeta practiced his crowd control, um crowd panicking, Bulma grabbed Gohan, dragging him out the door. The utterly confused half-saiyan managed to exchange one look with Videl, whose confused expression mirrored his own, before vanishing through to doorway. His last confused question still was heard in the room. "Shouldn't we wait for my mom?"  
  
Piccolo stood up from the wall, giving Videl a small smile. "Now that's a good sign." With this parting comment, the Namek departed.  
  
Still leaning against the far wall, Eighteen's toneless voice "Might be good to have another gal around all these guys." She turned to the door, flipping back her hair. At the doorway, she paused, idly commenting over her shoulder "if you live."  
  
Alone with her father, who still hadn't figured out what was going on or at least a convincing explanation for these strange people, Videl summed up her experiences 'weird.'  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Streetlights drew sharp divisions, dividing night into pools of darkness, lurking around the gray paths between the bright oasis. The insectine drone of the streetlights continued unabated through the rise and fall of distant engines. Far below the velvet blackness, one pool of shadows held a darkness more solid. It spoke, a whisper that was swallowed up by the empty streets. "Hurin, should we seek our master Murasaki?" Silence. "Hurin?"  
  
A slight shift revealed the figure, black in black and one with the blackness. Above the figure, shadows burst like the surface of the ocean as a vast hand emerged to clamp down on the speaker's head. Darkness in darkness twisted like an unhealthy organ. One strangled cry, one flash of light in the eyes, and it fell, a piece of trash in the shadows of an alley. Where it stood, a white spike thrust into the light as a greater darkness stirred. The spike emerged further, revealing a bulbous white device clasped in an enormous hand.  
  
"Pathetic, at this rate it will take years to gather the energy Master Babidi requires"  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"And the winner is HERCULE, still undefeated champion!" At the announcer's statement, Hercule put one foot on his opponent's prone back, lifted his hands in victory, and roared at the crowd. And the crowd cheered.  
  
Click. With a sigh, Videl swung her legs to the ground and lifted her body from the bed. She was glad her daddy had dropped off something more entertaining than dressmaking magazines, but trust Hercule to sent videos of his previous fights. She hit the eject button, set the tape on the stack with the other, and looked at the box. 'No more, what a relief, after the last few days Daddy's fights just don't seem that impressive anymore.' With a long yawn, she turned back to bed. There, in the corner of the box, a bundle of battered tapes. Reaching in, she brought them into the light, revealing the scratches and burns on one. Unlike the other tapes, which had neatly printed labels proclaiming that the match featured World Champion Hercule, these had faded pencil marking. Bringing the top one closer, she squinted. 'Twenty-first World Martial Arts Tournament, daddy didn't compete in that one, did he?' Slipping the tape into the VCR, she sat back down on the bed. In moments her eyes were locked onto the screen. She didn't notice the crimson bead swelling in her nostril. Nor did she notice the red spots now staining her lap. 


	7. A Nude Hope wClothes

Part 6: A Nude Hope (w/ Clothes)  
  
She wasn't sure what awoke her. She hung, luxuriating in that moment where awareness sloughs off the oblivion of sleep without taking up the burdens of the waking world. Such moments were precious and to be treasured, she knew. Why they were precious eluded her, probably nothing important. Such simplicity, the world was at peace.  
  
FOOM!  
  
She couldn't actually hear the explosions, of course, the sound proofing was an excellent piece of work. But she had found nothing, NOTHING, could completely block the vibrations coming from the gravity room when Vegeta got serious. That being any time he wasn't severely injured or training Trunks. In other word, when she made him. But it was as effective as an alarm. If only she could have him on a timer.  
  
Blinking to clear her eyes, she wondered briefly why the words were written vertically. Crack. 'Ouch, I must have fallen asleep in the lab.' Reaching back to rub her stiff neck, she yawned, long and deep. As the yawn passed, she brushed back the errant blue strands before looking at the green lettering before her. She frowned, connecting the information displayed on the screen with the young woman she had met yesterday. Oh, she'd seen Videl before, but hadn't had a reason to speak with her at the time. 'It was about four years ago . . .'  
  
Just what the function officially was, she couldn't remember, not even at the time. But in practice, it was an opportunity to brag or brown-nose with and among the upper crust. She had managed to drag Vegeta along after stuffing him into a tux. 'And he is stuffed' she thought, a small hungry smile flicking across her face as she looked over her shoulder and down at his dark clad pelvis. Raising her gaze she saw her expression mirrored on his for a moment before it darkened to a scowl. She turned her attention mostly back to the woman she was talking to. The corpulent woman was saying something about how her sons were going to dominate the junior something or other. Keeping Vegeta at the edge of her vision, she saw one of the catering staff bring him a heaping platter of turkey legs. 'Well, he is motivation to learn fast.' As she absently tossed a stinging barb at the unpleasant woman, she saw Vegeta smirking around his current leg. 'Maybe I can ditch the rest, and go screw Vegeta in the car halfway home?' Under the blue strapless dress, she felt the warmth of her arousal and the slight dampening of her crotch as her mind followed that scenario. Before she could act, dragging Vegeta off to the car, a commotion in one of the larger groups distracted her. The random shuffling cleared a view to the center, revealing a large man with an afro, mustache, and a gaudy sequined white tux. Beside him was an adolescent girl with pink dress, pink ribbons in her ponytails, and a scowl to rival Vegeta's. Before the crowd closed, she saw the girl raise her wrist to her face. The hum of conversation blurred words but two voices, one low pitched and one high, rose above the ambient. The girl, not quite little, burst through the crowd, running for the door. Her expression and the way she moved was shockingly familiar. It was exactly the same as so many of her friends as they went into a fight. A glance back told her that Vegeta had also noticed, his eyes tracking her even if he showed no other sign.  
  
'Vegeta managed to wreck the car while it was parked that night' she remembered as she stood scratching before heading to the shower on autopilot. Stumbling through the hallways of Capsule Corp, she reached her destination. Still groggy, she stripped and stepped into the hot spray. She paused, letting the warmth saturate her body, before lathering curves that were still as good as when she was a teenager. 'Vegeta sure is good at keeping me fit, maybe . . . no, we need to get Videl cured fast.' Giving her hair a final rinse, she turned off the water and slid on a terrycloth bathrobe. As the toweled her hair, a wonderful scent drifted through the door. 'Chichi's cooking, how can she be awake so soon after all that crying last night?'  
  
As Bulma entered the kitchen, the piles of food literally dwarfed the small woman who made them. Her well-practiced movements added more to the smallest pile as she hummed to the tunes coming from the radio on the small table off to one side. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, Chichi spun, brandishing the frying pan with her dark eyes warning any marauding Saiyan appetites that food was NOT ready. Instead, seeing Bulma, she relaxed and set the pan back on the stove. "Good morning. Would you like some coffee?"  
  
"Please." Before Bulma had finished sitting at the small kitchen table, she found the mug in her hands. One deep drought of the dark fluid later, she felt the last of the haze clear from her head. Lowering the mug, a dark bun of hair rose above its rim followed by two eyes, brimming with tears.  
  
"Tell me Videl isn't going to die!" In the absence of an immediate response, she collapsed into the chair opposite, sobbing. "My baby Gohan finally found someone to marry, then she catches some horrible disease!" "And I don't even have grandchildren!" she wailed before burying her face in her hands.  
  
'Not again.' "It'll be all right Chichi, so far it looks like my idea is going to work." How well she had comforted the dark haired Son matriarch, she wasn't to find out as the music faded out to be replaced.  
  
"Breaking news this morning, it has been confirmed that the daughter of our one and only World Champ Hercule, has been hospitalized. Apparently, she was infected by a rare virus while fighting terrorists yesterday. As a reward for a cure, her father has offered five million Zeni, personal training lessons, and a date with Videl herself. Boy, there is going to be some lucky . . ." CUNCH!  
  
"The nerve of that man, offering a date with MY future daughter-in-law!" Lifting the pan, Chichi struck the broken pieces as one last spark shorted itself amidst the former radio.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"The nerve of that man!" Videl snarled at the broken screen, drawing back her fist from the space occupied only moments before by the image of a local news announcer. 'I'd like to kick his butt, if only he wasn't my dad and World Champion.' She turned from the hollow shell of the broken TV, stepping back to the bed.  
  
Pain, like the lancing of a blister, thrust through her left side. She fell to her knees, gasping. Her vision spun, blurring everything before darkness took her. A gurgling sound, like pipes half clogged, echoed from a long way away. Metal filled her taste, filled to overflowing, and she spat. The gurgling stopped, leaving the echoes of rushing air. She felt the almost softness of what passed for carpet on her palms and fingers long before she could see again. When her vision cleared, she her hands splayed on the beige carpet. Her left was smooth and slightly tanned, with faint soot streaks. The right, black, a solid bruise spreading up her arm from the bloodstained bandage on her hand. Between them, the crimson splatter spread like a Rochester blot. 'What do you see?' 'I see upset janitors.' Deep within her, something stretched almost to the breaking point. She giggled. The sound echoed back, returning joyless mania to Videl's ears. The giggling rose to a feverish intensity. Silence fell like the eye of a storm, bringing her from the heights of mania to the depths of depression. Drained, she whispered, "I'm going to die".  
  
"Not necessarily."  
  
To say Videl jerked up at the voice would mean she could jerk upward, instead her attention was jerked upward. Her body, doubly fatigued by loss of blood and spirit, followed but not without formal and written complaints. She rose, slowly and with great pain as the leakage of fluid had started into her joints. Looking through the glass, as the words echoed. 'Not necessarily, a chance to live, do I dare hope?' As if to answer as she looked at the blue-haired genius that was shaking drops of water from the Capsule Corp jacket, her reflection stared at her like her own ghost. And Bulma looked, and Bulma paled.  
  
A face ravaged inside and out. Spirit, fiery temper to rival a Saiyan, bled from her eyes inscribing lines on her face, eroded hollows beneath the hospital gown. To fill the lines, blood. Small ruptures in the delicate tissues had allowed blood to seep and dry. Blood, now turned to black goo, painted her face and darkened her eyes. Eyes empty of spirit, all save one last spark 'you dare give me false hope'.  
  
Bulma shivered, feeling as she had not when facing any of the monsters and villains in her far travels, or her husband in her short travels. Those times she was struck with blind terror or called on her own fiery temper. Here, neither blindness nor temper shielded her from a gaze like the angry dead.  
  
Swallowing, Bulma groped the chair beside her, raising a stack of papers as if to ward of the cold stare. "I, I ran some cultures of the virus on different tissues." She pulled one sheet out, stepping forward to let Videl see. As her gaze shifted, the chill eased. She watched Videl's expression as she looked at the page filled with graphs, each with one axis labeled cell count. Bulma knew Videl saw the ones from human tissues, the sharp curve down was visible through the paper reached zero all to quickly. Next, tissues from saiyan hybrids, the shallower curve reaching total cell death nearly at the end. Finally, one lone graph with a flat line from beginning to end at one hundred percent, full saiyan.  
  
"Human", Videl's whisper passed her stained lips, "a human disease, not saiyan, not alien". Twisting inside, the chance, the hope, the risk, the disappointment. "But how can this help me, I'm still human, a weak human?" Confusion and bitterness rasped her tone as she questioned her maybe savior.  
  
"With the Dragon Balls, we could change that." As the look of death faded ever so slightly, Bulma spoke more confidently.  
  
"But yesterday, they couldn't cure me?" She spoke, soft and uncertain, like a scared child as she had never been save briefly.  
  
Bulma shook her head, "not directly, but there are ways around the limitations of the wishes." "The problem is, no one alive knows much about female saiyans, even Vegeta was too young to have learned much before Freeza destroyed their home planet" she continued with a frown. "So if you decide to do this, your body can fight the virus and then you have to live with whatever problems come from being a female saiyan."  
  
Videl was swaying slightly, a sleepy look as she muttered "Freeza?" She squeezed her eyes shut before locking her gaze with Bulma "could it, could it make me stronger than before?" At Bulma's nod she closed her eyes with an expression of peace. She smiled, "do it", and fell. A slow boneless fall, flowing rather than collapsing to the floor. And continued flowing, red seeping from somewhere now concealed by her hair. Hair like raven feathers, to carry away the girl who could fly.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Korin's tower, shrouded in gloom. The ornate patterns that stretch from the ground up are filled with shadows. Rain, thick and heavy, slams into the craggy surface before running in rivulets down to the ground. Faint sunlight paints everything in shades of gray and blurs the heights from view. Up, up, rain weeps from darkness at an impossible place. At the top stands a white cat, grayed by the clouds. Leaning on a wooden staff, he looks out, seeing past the mist and gloom. An errant gust ruffles his fur and deposits a few drops of rain on the pristine white coat. They gleam dully, smokey quartz ornaments shed by the brush of an absent paw movement.  
  
Up, up, into the gloom. Sunbeams pierce the clouds like a mad tailor slaying ants. The eddies of the clouds finally flow apart to reveal the sapphire dome of the sky. This gem, resting on the cotton clouds, flawless save for the tiny speck deep in its substance. This speck, revealed to be a structure, serves as someone's home.  
  
Above the curves base, on the creamy white tiles, two figures stand. Demon, rival, friend, Piccolo stands impassive. His arms are crossed as he as he alternates looking past the edge and at his companion. Smaller and lighter of build, this one is draped in the robes that mark him as Guardian. Like Piccolo, the younger Namek gazes out past the edge of his inherited lookout. Dende's face reveals his worry, concern, and sadness. Some on this concern is obviously directed up at the older Namek. Finally, Piccolo speaks, anger and accusation obvious with guilt lacing his voice for those who knew him.  
  
"I should never have interfered, I could see how close they are even if Gohan can't." Bowing his head slightly, he continues with more anger "I don't know what Gohan will do if she dies, and if I hadn't pushed them together . . ."  
  
"It would have been worse, much worse."  
  
The new voice echoed, blurring gender, age, or any other clues to the new figure's identity. Beneath the long hooded crimson cloak, even its species was concealed. It hovered just past the edge, looking out and down.  
  
Raising a hand to forestall Piccolo as he opened his mouth, the figure continued "the proof you want will come, far too soon."  
  
With that, the figure raised its head and shook, causing the hood to fall back. Hair, now free, was revealed to be raven black before flashing into incandescent gold. In the backwash of Ki, the cloak fluttered. Thus revealed was the black bodysuit and similarly incandescent belt wrapped around HER waist. She turned, golden hair now down to her waist and slowly drifting like a solid aura around her head, facing the two Nameks. She gazed at the two through a white oval mask. The eyeslits spilled turquoise light, the final piece of evidence for her credibility. Her voice echoing hollowly through the mask, far too cold for the liking of either former demon or current Guardian.  
  
"It will be too soon, and maybe, too late." 


	8. When You Wish Upon a Ball

Part 7: When You Wish Upon a Ball  
  
The ocean, stretching from horizon to horizon without so much as a stone in sight. Vaster than human comprehension and beyond human power, the ocean stirs only at the beckoning of the lunar, er wait it doesn't anymore. But it is still vaster than human comprehension and beyond human power.  
  
But it just doesn't stir at all.  
  
Just sits there, flat as a pancake.  
  
Still not moving.  
  
Just reflecting the sunlight.  
  
No waves at all.  
  
No seagulls either.  
  
Man, is this scene boring or what!  
  
The vast and timeless expanse is abruptly broken as water surges upward. The frothing white column hangs a moment before sliding back down to rejoin the aquatic expanse below. Thus revealed, the blond form of android Eighteen hovered with a look of annoyance. Reaching under the collar of her soaked white shirt, she fumbles around her chest a moment. Beneath the white fabric made shear with water and between the opening of her denim vest, something other than her own hand moved and pressed darkly against the inside of her shirt. Beneath her shirt, knuckles pressed out between her breasts. Withdrawing her hand she looked down at the small scaly form that had so recently trespassed in an area she allowed only one living creature access to. And HE had hair. Dismissively, she tossed the piscine form over her shoulder and back into its watery home.  
  
Raising her other hand to her face, she opened it and stared into the pale orange depths of the sphere resting on her palm. 'The two star, one more and I can return to Capsule Corp', she thought. She had taken this trio of Dragonballs because they were deemed most difficult and she was the strongest of those willing to fetch them. One simply floating on the surface, one wedged among rocks on the ocean floor 'and the last' she thought as she checked the Dragon Radar 'near the shore over there'. Returning the Radar to her left pocket and securing the new ball with the other in her right pocket, she sped off in the direction of the last Dragonball.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Yamcha was his name. Once a desert bandit, rival for the Dragonballs. Now, a friend.  
  
Once one of Earth's strongest warriors. Now eclipsed by the others' rising power.  
  
He had fought. He had died. He had found fame. He had found a broken heart.  
  
But never had he found a Dragonball in a pile of manure. He stood before the massive heap that towered more than twice his height. The expression of disbelief plastered on his face moved as he alternated gawking at the massive, wet, fly-infested mountain and the round screen in his hand that was telling him that the object of his quest was right in front of him.  
  
'Why me?'  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Snow covered the land, blurring trees, hills, and houses into a single radiant plain. Above sped an orange Gi clad Krillen, surrounded by a white aura of Ki that trailed off behind. Abruptly he dropped, plunging to the ground headfirst faster than gravity would allow. Mere inches above the snow, the glowing aura cut off, dropping Krillen feet first to the snow. Unfortunately he kept going, as the loose material compacting as he sank. Ankle, knee, then hip deep he sank into the powdery white snow.  
  
"Brrrrrr!" Krillen shivered and clasped his arms to his chest. One burst of Ki later and he was hovering inches above a crater in the snow with his teeth chattering. 'I guess I should've dressed warmer, but at least my head is warm.'  
  
Insulated by his Ki, his shivering slowly stopped and he could inspect the Dragon Radar. After a few clicks he looked up and sped into the distance leaving a furrow in the snow behind him.  
  
As he sped along, a brilliant white cone crept up from below the horizon. Closing in, it resolved itself into a huge evergreen so laden with snow that not one needle of green showed and the branches hung low. Krillen slowed and stopped, hovering before the monolithic plant. Awed, he craned his neck to stare at the craggy white structure stretching off into the sky.  
  
Beneath the sagging branches, pitch black shadows were pierced by dappled patches of weak light that had wound their way through the thick snow. In the depths, deeper shadows moved. As they passed through into the twilight illumination their eyes gleamed hungrily. When they stilled, more than a dozen pairs of eyes glowed dully out at the small morsel that hung just above the snow. The foremost pair moved again, advancing low to the ground, until it reached the edge of the tree's shadow.  
  
Seeing movement, Krillen looked down in time to see the massive white wolf leaping at him. Surprised by the attack, he found himself flat on his back in the snow as the wolf strained its neck to force aside the hand that held it's muzzle away from the hot blood and tender flesh that it hungered for. Sharp claws tore and hot breath brought the thick scent of rotten meat wafting into Krillen's . . . whatever. Drawing back a leg, he kicked, hurtling the wolf back into the shadowed depths. As one the dull thump and the sharp crack echoed out. Following them, a dull rumble shook the tree and patches of snow fell, bringing forth yelps of surprise as the massed pack fled the shelter turned danger.  
  
Krillen picked himself up and watched as the huge tree's shaking faded, leaving a scattering of mirror bright specks slowly drifting down. He sighed in relief that the whole tree hadn't come down. Charging his aura again he drifted above the snow into the darkness. Softly lit by Ki-glow, the dead wolf lay with its back bent against the tree trunk. Consulting the radar again, he frowned and looked suspiciously at the corpse.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The golden corona proceeded sedately across the sky, not even breaking Mach one. Beneath the violent turbulence of Ki borne wind, not a breeze touched the upswept crest of hair on the man responsible, nor did it chill the blue material that had long since dried the sweat of that mornings training. Beneath the hair, however, his thoughts were anything but still.  
  
'How much further can I sink, the mighty Prince of all Saiyans reduced to hauling this sickly wisp of a girl around.' Memories came unbidden at the thought. Himself, on his third, no fourth purging mission. The treelike natives had been skilled bioengineers, and concealed within their forest had developed a potent virus as he, Nappa, and Raditz had to search them down one by one. They could not target the virus to the Saiyans, instead increasing its virulence and lethality beyond anything in nature.  
  
The world was dead in a week.  
  
Only a dozen treatments in a rejuvenation tank had kept him from joining it. Even before he recovered, he had thrown himself into his training with manic abandon, determined never to be helpless again and more important, to show Freeza that he was not helpless. His efforts doubled his time in the tank.  
  
Freeza never said anything.  
  
A quiet groan drew his attention to the white wrapped bundle in his arms. A tiny pang of anger and guilt followed the realization that a shudder had escaped his iron control and disturbed the girl.  
  
'Videl Satan' he thought to himself 'daughter of that fool Hercule as hard as it is to believe.'  
  
Looking at her face almost brought another shudder, he had seen corpses that looked better. Dozens of tiny sores had opened around her lips, nose, and eyes. It looked like more blood was on her face than in it, and her eyes had turned to a mottled black and red with barely a trace of the whites anymore. And most horrifying, as dead as she looked, she lived.  
  
He felt her Ki, barely there but still fighting, clawing at anything to hold. Even half trained, she could still fight the approach of death.  
  
Then it snapped, her struggles turned to wild thrashing though the muscles had almost liquefied and her Ki was almost undetectable.  
  
"Damnit!" Vegeta swore as he plunged to the ground. The golden comet streaked down, bursting on impact to leave Vegeta kneeling on the ground laying Videl's twitching body in the shallow crater.  
  
"Damnit girl, you're not dying like this!" he snarled even as he planned his attack. He was no doctor, no healer, but he was a master of Ki and more important Prince of all Saiyans. "A Saiyan dies in battle, not to some puny bug!" he growled even as he began his assault, a direct assault naturally. He tore the cloth, forcing aside the comparison of Videl to a corpse, and placed his hands on her chest. Through the thin shirt he felt, as he had heard, her erratic heartbeat. Closing his eyes, he focused all his attention on the girl's Ki.  
  
And poured his own into it.  
  
It shuddered, disrupted by the burning flow of raw life that was, by Vegeta's standards, a bare trickle.  
  
Had Videl fled from the pain, had she sought peace, she would have died, maybe even been injured in spirit.  
  
As if our heroine could do that.  
  
For one long moment, surprisingly long if you factor in the fact that energy and matter can cause time to slow as the forces approach light speed. . . , Vegeta struggled to control himself, directing the flow of Ki so as not to injure the girl.  
  
Then he was blind, as her Ki slipped past the threshold of his senses, but still he worked ignoring the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.  
  
In a burst that stung his Ki sense like a sudden light hurts eyes straining in the dark, Videl lived. And now it was even more of a struggle to control the flow after seeing that she could take it. He filled her broken body until it could take no more.  
  
Cutting off the flow of Ki, he examined the aura before him. At first it seemed stagnant, like the Ki absorbed in inanimate objects, only far more than a lifeless object could hold. Even as he examined it, he felt the level dropping, leaking away.  
  
Then it rippled.  
  
Deeper currents took hold of the Ki he had fed into Videl and made it hers, flowing in the complex cycles that marked life. Specifically the low flow rate patterns that marked Human dreaming but with extra surges that seemed familiar somehow.  
  
Vegeta's eyes popped open and he looked at the girl laying before him. She seemed almost relaxed now, her breathing shallow but even. Gathering Videl in his arms, he rose. And staggered dizzy as spots filled his vision.  
  
'What am I DOING, caring for this girl?', he silently demanded himself.  
  
'A prince's duty is to his people.'  
  
'I have no people, only my pride and my strength' he argued even as images danced across the edge of his awareness. Bulma, Trunks, the others who called themselves the Z fighters. Even as he became aware of them, another joined, Videl.  
  
'My . . . people?' he thought and mouthed silently as the dazed expression started to fade into understanding. 'But they do not bow, do not call me Prince!'  
  
'They respect you, they trust you, would you loose what is there for a hollow symbol?'  
  
The last of the dizziness faded as Vegeta's face broke into a delighted yet nasty grin. 'MY people.' He looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms and almost laughed, "come girl, we have a wish to make." 'And I can barely wait to see the looks on their faces.'  
  
His aura flared into existence as he leapt into the air, speeding toward the gathering powers ahead.  
  
Behind him, the forest was still once more. A solitary butterfly fluttered blue wings before coming to land above the crater edge.  
  
Three feet above the crater edge.  
  
A patch of air blurred and warped, suffused with a red tint that grew and resolved into a red shrouded figure standing behind where Vegeta had knelt. It raised a white gloved hand, butterfly still perched on top of the middle knuckle.  
  
"Cause any storms today?" the slightly echoing voice asked the insect, amusement and sorrow clear.  
  
The butterfly flapped its wings once and was still.  
  
With a metallic sigh she spoke as if each word was a tear "last time I . . . she could not know how delicate history is."  
  
She paused, still save for the gentle flapping of butterfly wings. "Knowing what to do only makes it harder." With a twitch, she sent the butterfly away, watching as it spiraled higher and higher in the sky, unperturbed by the whispers below.  
  
"I'm sorry Videl."  
  
"I'm sorry Vegeta-sensi."  
  
The widening spirals of the butterfly were interupted as a bird swooped down to make a meal of the hapless insect. If the figure saw or cared whether the butterfly escaped or not, she gave no sign of it.  
  
The stillness grew more profound as the blue sky darkened to black and the sun was blotted from sight.  
  
The stillness grew as the animals, the plants, and the elements themselves felt was to come.  
  
The stillness broke as lightning burst UP into the sky, twisting and coiling as yellow energy resolved into green scales. The dragon spoke.  
  
Even with the distance, Shenron's voice carried vast power. No need to hear the words, she knew what the dragon said.  
  
The dragon waited and then spoke with a voice that put thunder and earthquakes to shame.  
  
"YOUR WISH IS GRANTED!" 


End file.
